


Nothing's Exactly What We Need

by BabylonsFall



Series: Prompts [19]
Category: Leverage
Genre: 2.7k of fluff. That's all this is., Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Multi, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 22:18:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13467726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabylonsFall/pseuds/BabylonsFall
Summary: Hardison, Parker, and Eliot are finally taking a vacation. And it's great. It'swonderful.And then Eliot's getting edgy, which is making Hardison and Parker edgy, and, in the end, they really, really just need to learn to ask what's wrong.(Or, there's a misunderstanding over what constitutes a 'vacation,' but that's alright, they figure it out in the end.)





	Nothing's Exactly What We Need

**Author's Note:**

> So I was given the lovely prompt of _the Leverage trio on holiday_ by the always awesome [benjaminrussell](https://benjaminrussell.tumblr.com), and this fluffy nonsense is the result!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Eliot was getting wound up.

...Okay, maybe not exactly that. Edgy, maybe? That fit better.

A week into their first official vacation as a  _ them _ , and their hitter was getting nerves under his skin. And for the life of him, Hardison couldn't figure out  _ why _ .

That wasn’t really the frustrating part though.

No, what was frustrating was that it wasn't like it was keeping Eliot from enjoying himself. Far from it. Eliot went with them easily, without even the half-step of hesitation he sometimes had when he thought an idea was bad or stupid (before he dove in determined to make it out the other side).

He went along to the tourist traps Hardison loved—from the museums to the tours to the monuments—and to the more clandestine thief-tourist stuff Parker loved—spotting their repelling, casing future possible targets, standing guard while Parker and Hardison got a closer look at a vault. Hardison and Parker even made sure they got some stuff in there that they knew Eliot would prefer—they'd damn near hit every noteworthy restaurant in a ten mile radius, had tickets to whatever sporting event Hardison could find, the works. And Eliot was clearly enjoying himself, if the enthusiastic kisses, soft smiles, and good natured grumping that they all knew was how he hid bright laughs was anything to go by.

And yet, despite all that, Hardison could tell  _ something  _ was getting on the man’s nerves. He could also tell that it was one of those situations where the man would be damned if he would ever said anything about it, and Hardison didn't really...know how to bring it up without getting immediately rebuffed or without having Eliot actually get upset about it.

And  _ that  _ was getting on  _ his  _ nerves, which was then in turn getting on  _ Parker’s  _ nerves, and it was really all just a tangle that Hardison could do without, thank you. Especially when they were supposed to be on vacation.

* * *

“...Eliot's grumpier than normal, right?” Parker asked from her spot, three days later, hanging upside down off the couch in their hotel room.

It was a nice place. An expensive (because they were  _ relaxing  _ and they deserved it, honestly), full suite, all plush furniture and soft carpets, with big glass doors that led out onto a balcony with a truly spectacular view of the water from this high up, and a bathroom that was nearly obscene in size. The concierge had given them a bit of a strange look when they’d checked in, but hadn’t actually said a word about three people booking a honeymoon suite, and that was just fine.

The room had been quiet up until she’d piped up. The only sounds had been the white-noise of traffic coming from the open balcony doors (where they were high up enough for the city to turn to patchwork around them and facing absolutely no buildings of comparable height because Eliot was still damn paranoid), the click of Hardison’s keyboard, the flick of the TV going through channels as Parker tried to find something to watch, and the sound of the shower coming from the other room.

...So not that quiet at all actually. But. Quietly familiar—if he’d closed his eyes, Hardison could've sworn they were back at the apartment, the same white noise of just existing in the same space washing over him. It was nice enough to make him just the tiniest bit homesick, if he thought about it.

“You noticed that too, huh?” He asked, pushing away from the table he'd claimed for his computer. Parker nodded, grimacing slightly.

“It's not...not his normal?” She gave him a look then, and he nodded quickly, “But I don't know why.” She sounded frustrated about that, and Hardison couldn't blame her.

They'd all gotten pretty good with reading each other, even more than when they were just a team (not that they were ever  _ just  _ anything, not really). But, occasionally, moments snuck up on all of them where they just. Had no idea what was going on in each others' heads. Which was probably fair, honestly—everyone needed to be able to keep some stuff to themselves—but still. Frustrating as hell sometimes.

“What're we doing tomorrow? Maybe we could do something else for him instead?” Parker suggested after a moment, and Hardison grinned. He could do that. In fact, he already had a couple ideas, just needed to check the timing.

“One surprise reschedule coming right up, mama.”

* * *

Well. That hadn't worked. Of course, Eliot loved the ringside tickets. Had been ecstatic over the restaurant they'd picked. And they'd all been soft and floaty, walking down the street after, trading easy kisses and soft laughs, shared just between the three of them, like the rest of the world hadn't even existed.

It had been nice, soft, and sweet, like this thing between all of them was rarely allowed to be really be (too much energy, too much flash, too much  _ them _ to settle for something that needed slow and soft and fragile).

And Hardison didn't doubt for a moment that Eliot hadn't been grateful ( _ that  _ had been made very obvious when they'd gotten back to the room). Him and Parker even shared a victory thumbs up behind Eliot’s back, so he knows she saw it too.

But, the next morning, Hardison and Parker had hopped out of bed, chattering about the plans for the day and Eliot had kind of...switched back. It was a subtle thing, the edginess. But there, nonetheless. And from the look Parker shot him as they slipped out the door, she'd noticed it too. He's pretty sure he was wearing the same upset twist to his mouth that she was, even if it melted away quickly as they made it to their first stop for the day.

What the hell were they supposed to do?

* * *

So. Turned out, after three more days of just trying to figure it out on their own, asking might've been a good place to start.

In their defense, Eliot had perfected the art of deflection long before he’d met them, so them assuming that just straight up asking was off the table was completely and totally fair.

It’s Parker that gets the courage to ask, in the end.

They’d all just rolled out of bed—early enough that the light shining through the balcony windows slants pale gold across the carpet, only just lighting up the room enough to let them see where they put their feet. Like they’d done the previous mornings, Hardison and Parker had rolled out of bed almost as soon as they’d woken up, checking in about plans for the day as they got ready around each other.

Mornings like this were what had actually tipped Hardison off that something was up in the first place. Eliot always,  _ always _ got out of bed before they did, barring injury. It was just a thing he did. While Hardison would blearily shuffle about getting dressed, Eliot would haul him in for a good morning kiss on his way out to the kitchen. While Parker blinked awake, not always completely successfully, Eliot would press a kiss to her temple and shove a cup of coffee in her hands to help.

But that was all back home. And, to be fair, the first couple of days they’d been here too. But, now? Now, Hardison and Parker were dressed and raring to go before Eliot even got off the bed—not that he wasn’t awake, he definitely was. Still woke up before either of them, just...tended to stay, stretched out on the bed, watching them get ready for the day.

So. This morning.

Eliot had made it to sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the two of them with a faint smile Hardison’s pretty sure Eliot wasn’t actually aware of, before Parker dropped down to sit beside him, eyeing him over with that same intense stare that tended to have people immediately checking for something on their face. Eliot just raised an eyebrow and waited her out.

“...What’s wrong?” She never could wait long, not when she was given all the time in the world.

Eliot blinked, before glancing at Hardison. Hardison snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. Oh no, if Parker wanted to do this now, no way Eliot was getting out of this. The lack of reaction, or, more specifically, the lack of commiserating confusion (what could he say—Parker could be unpredictable in the best kinds of ways), was definitely not what he’d been looking for.

“...Nothing?” He said, drawn out in that way that suggested a politer version of  _ duh? _

“You’ve been like this all week-”

“Longer, since like last Wednesday.” Hardison piped in.

“-since last Wednesday. Slow in the mornings.”

“I’m...not allowed to be lazy?” Eliot asked, eyebrows drawing together as he tried to figure out what was going on. Hardison kind of felt a little bad—man clearly either hadn’t noticed something was wrong, or, more likely, in his mind nothing was  _ wrong _ . They’d had multiple talks, since they all became a  _ thing _ , about talking with each other, figuring out what everyone needed, what everyone wanted. And they were doing good—fantastic even, if Hardison could say so—but. Well. It was still a work in progress sometimes.

Parker huffed at him, hands flying up to...well, who knew, because she clearly didn't. Just move maybe. Frustrated. Hardison could understand that.

“You’ve been off all week, E. Not... _ bad _ , we get that. But  _ something _ is up, and you can’t tell us it’s not.” Hardison fills in when it’s clear the words aren’t quite coming for Parker. He steps forward, gently nudging Eliot’s foot out enough that he can step between his legs. Eliot allows it without hesitation, hands coming up to rest lightly at Hardison’s hips, even as the corners of his mouth turned down slightly.

(And later, Hardison would marvel at how  _ easily _ Eliot let them into his space like this, when that hadn’t always been the case. Sure, Parker had gotten in early by just shoving her way to Eliot’s side and staying there, and Hardison had figured out early on that Eliot did actually like contact—and a lot of it—but actually reciprocating, actually reaching out for it?  _ That  _ had taken a little longer.)

“Darlin’, sweetheart, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.” His voice had gone that low and growly drawl that both of them loved so much—and Hardison had to hand it to the man. Wonderful distraction technique. Usually.

Also told Hardison that he knew  _ exactly  _ what they were talking about, though when it clicked together Hardison had no idea. And maybe threading his fingers through Eliot’s hair was playing dirty, but, hey. All’s fair in love and war and all that. He probably could’ve bit back his grin when he felt Eliot damn near melt under his hand, but he didn’t see much of a point. This plus Parker’s stubbornness? They’d already won.

He held out for another minute or two. Up until Parker poked his shoulder, her nose scrunched up and her mouth twisted up in a pout, and Eliot huffed, and Hardison felt what was left of the tension in him smooth out. “...It’s nothing you two. Seriously.”

“If it was nothing, we wouldn’t have noticed it. Come on now, spill.” Hardison muttered, not unkindly—because for all the work they put into talking things out, some things still had to be coaxed (out of all of them. Eliot wasn’t nearly the only lone-wolf recluse of the group, not by a long shot).

Eliot pinched his hip with a huff, but Hardison just tugged slightly on his hair because they were  _ not  _ getting into the equivalent of a slap fight right now. “You two’re overreacting.”

“Maybe. And yet…” Hardison rolled his eyes, only to grin when Parker snorted out a laugh.

“...Fine. Fine. You two win. Overreacting over nothing, you wanna know so bad?” A couple years ago, Hardison might’ve thought Eliot was actually fed up with them, with how exasperated he sounded. At this point though, he just waited him out, while Parker moved to settle in at his side, pressing close enough so that she could lean against him, from hip to shoulder. “Just…” Eliot took a breath, ducking slightly to rest his forehead against Hardison’s stomach, fingers curling in his shirt, “It’s been fun, alright? I don’t want you two thinking I haven’t been having the time of my life out here, okay?” Hardison nods quickly, even if Eliot can’t see him. Seems to feel the movement anyway, takes it for what it is, “Just...do we actually have to  _ do  _ so much?” It’s a soft thing, when he finally gets it out. Muffled. And it takes Hardison a moment to piece together what the hell he’s talking about.

Parker recovers first, “If you wanted a lazy day in bed or something, why didn’t you just say so?” Exactly, just what he’d been thinking.

“Exactly what she said. Hell, you’ve got a point. We’ve been going and going for two weeks. Might be nice to finish out the week doing absolutely nothing.” He tries for light, easy, like rearranging their plans for the last week of their vacation is nothing. Because it  _ is  _ nothing—it may not have occurred to him at first, sure, but the idea of just spending some time lounging about with the two loves of his life, no plans, no rushing about, no need to do anything but enjoy being around each other for a little while? Definitely sounded perfect.

“...Thought you had the rest of the week booked out?” Eliot sounds like he’s trying for exasperated again. Failing miserably, but he’s trying, Hardison’ll give him that.

“Well, yeah. But just. More tours, more climbing—nothing we can’t do some other time or haven’t done already.” Eliot leans back enough to glance up, mouth already open to argue. Hardison takes the opportunity to keep him quiet with a honey-warm kiss that was definitely only intended to stop the argument, and might actually leave both of them a little dazed by accident. Not that he can complain too much, even if the grin he’s wearing is definitely on the dopey side when he stands back up. Eliot kind of just blinks at him, taking a moment to focus again before turning to Parker, no doubt to try and argue with  _ her  _ instead. But, Parker takes Hardison’s lead and silences him with another kiss—her’s lightning quick and probably cotton-candy-sweet (he still didn’t actually know where she managed to find toothpaste that  _ actually _ tasted like cotton-candy), and just as effective.

“We really, really don’t mind, Eliot.” Hardison added, voice as gentle as he could make it, even as Parker nodded quickly in agreement.

He’s not quite prepared for it when Eliot shifts his hold, and suddenly he’s off the ground (and definitely  _ not _ squawking. No one can prove he did), and landing on the bed with an  _ oomf _ , Eliot keeping a firm grip around his waist as he curls into Hardison’s side with a huff. Parker’s doing her level best to not laugh at them from where she’s still sitting on the edge of the bed—and by level best, that meant almost falling off said bed, giggling and snorting. “If that’s the case, then it’s too damn early to be up,” is the only explanation Eliot gives before he’s burying his face in Hardison’s chest, apparently intent on staying there for the foreseeable future. And you know what, Hardison really can’t find it in him to argue against that.

At least up until Parker shouts “Dog pile!” and dive bombs them, at which point Eliot and Hardison only just manage to scramble out of the way enough to avoid elbows and knees in tender places.

It takes a good ten minutes to get situated after that—given that Hardison and Parker can’t stop giggling and Eliot’s threatening that he’s changed his mind and vowing to kick them out of bed—to settle back down, all of them curled into each other under the covers. But when they do, Hardison can’t help but sigh happily, arms curled around Eliot, Parker’s arms tight around him in return.

Sometimes, doing nothing was the absolute best plan they could possibly have.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always loved! (And so, so appreciated!)
> 
> Come yell about Leverage (and the Librarians!) with me on [tumblr](https://distinctivelibrarians.tumblr.com).


End file.
